Love Bites

“Jed and I, well, even though he travels a lot, we’re pretty close. But you’re the best friend I’ve ever had,” she said once she’d shut off the faucet. “I know that sounds pretty pathetic, because it’s only been a few weeks. But I don’t make friends easily, and you—”

“I feel the same.”

Sydney looked over her shoulder. “Do you?”

“Yes.” To her surprise, Emily came closer and stroked a hand over her hair. Affection bled through the touch, comforting her. Warming her, when God, she’d been cold for so long.

“I hurt for you that day I found you in the library. And your bravery as you try to fight that what can’t be fought both impresses and frustrates me.” When Sydney would have spoken, Emily laid a finger over her lips. “You’re the only one I could ask this. The only one I’d trust to do this thing for me.”

The first hint of fear curdled like turned milk in her stomach. “Don’t.”

“It can be done. A latent is enough of a vampire to create another. I’ve done the research. You know I know what I’m talking about.”

Emily’s silvery eyes glowed with an inner resolve that both intrigued and repelled her. Had she ever been that determined about anything?

No. She’d coasted. Taking what she needed, doing enough to get by. Always telling herself tomorrow could be better than today, but never doing a damn thing to make it so.

“There are no guarantees, I understand that,” Emily continued. “Even with the lore, there’s a chance it won’t take. Or that something might go wrong. But I need to know.”

“To know what?”

“How it feels not to be afraid.”

Sydney had to laugh, but the sound was brittle. “Jesus, Em. Do I look like an example of someone who isn’t afraid?”

“That’s because you’re not embracing the change. I would.” When Sydney turned away, Emily’s voice pitched. “Goddammit, listen to me!”

Emily grabbed her arm and spun Sydney around to face her. “I was raped. Repeatedly. Do you have any clue what it’s like to feel so powerless that your whole identity’s been stripped away? That you feel like nothing but a husk? A shell?”

Sydney took her hand and searched her face wordlessly, then shook her head.

“I’ve been scared for thirteen years, Syd. Scared and ashamed and hiding myself underneath shitty clothes and sarcasm.” She plucked at her olive cardigan as if it were the rattiest rag she’d ever seen. “You can help me even the score. To get back some of my own. To get me back.”

Sydney stared at their linked hands. The naked need radiating from Emily pulled at her. How could she turn away? “If something goes wrong, I couldn’t live with myself.”

“You can’t live with yourself now.”

Her lips twisted into a weak smile. “Great argument, Yost.”

“Hey, we do what we can.” She smiled back, just as weakly. “I trust you, Sydney. And whatever happens, it’s meant. Isn’t that what you tarot-card-reader-types like to preach?”

“I don’t read tarot cards anymore.” She didn’t mess with the metaphysical any longer, not since the otherworld had taken up residence in her body. “But actually, no, the tarot tells us that there is more than one path.”

“Fine. I’ve chosen this one. And you need to feed. Sounds like a plan.”

“You’re not getting what I’m saying. If the change works, you’ll change. You won’t be the you you’ve always been. You’ll want sex and blood all the time. The burn won’t stop. You’ll need it for your very survival.”

“I get it.”

“You’ve been celibate for years. Now you’re ready to throw yourself into the sexual all-star ring, and for what? Because you think becoming a vampire makes you powerful?”

“You are powerful, no matter what you may think,” Emily said quietly. “And you’re not even full strength. If you wanted to, you could decimate this place with little more than a thought.”

Because she’d seen ample evidence of that herself—like pulling her bathroom door off the hinges yesterday when she’d grabbed her towel a little too quickly—she couldn’t argue. But that wouldn’t stop her from trying.

Goddammit, her best friend was asking her to kill her.

So she whipped out the big guns. “You know the bond between a vampire and their sire. It’s not always sexual, but it can be. There’s no way to predict how you’ll react.”